On Saturday I stumbled along a marathon of Keyshia Cole’s reality show. Watching Keyshia discover new and interesting things like a thesaurus not being a dinosaur and learn the magic of wearing one color of weave at a time has me really geeked about what’s next for the show.
To see her progress from someone who probably hid a blade under her tongue to someone who now likely keeps a more demure pink colored shank is inspiring. And before any of ya’ll even take it there, it’s OK to read the New York Times op-ed pages and watch an ex-crack head get drunk and twirk on TV.
Now, back to the show, judging from the clips I see Keyshia and co. will still be having some of the same arguments, but I’m wondering about a few others things.
Will Frankie keep acting like she deserves a medal for staying clean for at least 48 hours?
Will Frankie keep ignoring her choice to smoke crack and dick in the alley instead of raising her child while complaining that her kids don’t love her enough?
How many times will Neffe yell in a single episode?
Will Neffe seek treatment for LaTonya Blige disease?
How many more times will Frankie say “Holla!?”
Will someone finally teach her a new phrase to repeat to death?
Note: I suggest “look back at it.”
Will Keyshia realize her family looks at her like a winning lotto ticket?
How often will Keyshia Cole’s ass appear? It reminds me of a deadbeat dad: It only shows up when it feels like it.
When is the spin-off premiering?
Oh, and that whole daddy thing. Bless Keyshia’s heart for thinking a crackhead mama and a possible Italian father makes you Mariah Carey’s little sister.
OK, so maybe it sounds like I’m going hard on Keyshia, but I love her. That is, when she’s not bitching out radio people. Anyway, what I like most about this is show is that whenever I think about how screwed up and made-for-TV movie ready my family is, I can watch Keyshia Cole’s kinfolk and know it could be a lot worse.
It comes on tomorrow. Don’t act at least seven of ya’ll will be tuning in with me.